Style
by Loopy777
Summary: In the Western Air Temple, Sokka and Zuko have a friendly match to determine the better swordsman. Short story, combat description.


_Author Note: This was just a quick experiment with describing combat. Took me several revisions, but I think I have something I like now. All comments, constructive or otherwise, are welcome._

**Style**

It had become his routine. Everyday, just after dawn, Zuko would rise and take his broadswords to some remote section of the temple complex for some practice. The first morning, it had caused a bit of stir; immediately after accepting the former enemy and Fire Nation prince into their midst, he suddenly disappears without explanation. There had been a mildly ugly scene when he returned an hour later, confused at everyone's panic. Since then, there had been no trouble.

Sokka of the Water Tribe intended to fix that.

He purposely woke up before the sun had risen, and waited, perfectly still, behind one of the pillars near Zuko's room. When the other teenager emerged, carrying his sheathed swords, Sokka followed, as silently as if he was hunting dinner. Zuko's training ground turned out to be a small, open amphitheater away from most of temple buildings. Perhaps the long-gone Air monks had once recited poetry there, or debated the finer points of wind manipulation.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Zuko took a position in the back of the theater, drew his blades, and began waving them through the air. Sokka could see that there was definitely a pattern to his movements, but didn't wait around trying to figure out the specifics. He just strode to the opposite end of the platform and took a ready position, making no attempt to mask his movements.

Zuko's eyes focused on him. His blade work faltered for half a second, then resumed its tempo.

Keeping his face blank, Sokka removed his own sword from its sheath, and took a moment to admire the dark blade in the newborn sunlight. It was something he enjoyed doing, but that wasn't the purpose this time. The show was for Zuko's benefit. Very carefully ignoring the other, Sokka took a two-handed grip on his sword, and started moving it through the "Heavens to Earth" sequence. The cool air whistled against the razor edge as the blade flew back and forth through an imaginary opponent's necessary anatomy, starting with the head and working downward.

After several minutes of practicing, Sokka had almost forgotten that the other boy was there at all, until the sound of boots scraping on stone reached his ears. Without breaking his pattern, Sokka checked his peripheral vision; Zuko had begun an exercise that had him moving around the perimeter of the theater's stage, each step heralding a unique pair of cuts. Sokka finished his current iteration of the "Heavens to Earth", and started his own moving workout, a march-like progression in which he executed each possible forward-slice with a two-handed grip, and would end with a one-footed hop that flowed into a killing thrust.

He moved steadily across the theater, treading the diameter of the circular stage, while Zuko trotted the circumference. Inevitably, their paths collided. Neither boy was taken unaware. Sokka had timed his thrust to extend directly in front of Zuko, blocking him from moving forward, while Zuko made sure the last flick of his blades landed them against Sokka's own sword.

It was on.

Each boy backed up, taking a ready stance. They remained in position for a single heartbeat, and then broke into motion. Sokka brought his blade down in a classic downward slice, but Zuko met the attack with his right-hand blade and twisted it so that the other's sword slid ineffectually off to the side. Without pausing, Zuko flicked his other blade in a mid-section slice aimed far short of Sokka's body, but close enough to scare.

Sokka made a quick retreat, stumbling backwards from the slice, but recovered in time to deliver a counter-offensive thrust meant to keep Zuko at a distance. The Fire Nation prince crossed his blades and caught Sokka's sword between them, then pushed back at his opponent and sent the sword flying. Sokka maintained his grip and fought the momentum of the deflected blade, bringing it back for a slice at Zuko's head. It did little good, however, as Zuko saw the move coming from a mile away and effortlessly parried it, simultaneously bringing his other blade in.

Sokka made sure he was well out of its way.

This wasn't working at all. This time, Sokka made sure he had a good stance, a proper grip, and the blade of his weapon optimally positioned between his own body and his attacker. Zuko graciously held back, readying himself and steadying his breathing. Then without any warning that Sokka could see, Zuko renewed his attack. Sokka focused on deflecting the blows, and was able to achieve some measure of success this time. He was ready now for the inevitable counter-strike that Zuko's second sword allowed him, and was able to keep up without getting flustered.

The two boys moved across the stage. Their path meandered, their direction dictated by Sokka's dodges. He would sidestep, jump clear, and sometimes even roll out of the way, but Zuko always kept pressing his offensive, never giving him an instant of relief. During the whole battle, Sokka was never able to even attempt an attack of his own. How could he compete against Zuko's mastery of the twin swords? The style was quick and relentless, seemingly without limits.

Sokka gritted his teeth and brought that line of thought to an end. He stayed on the defensive, but instead of trying to look for an opportunity to attack, Sokka kept his eyes on Zuko's blades, and how they moved.

Surprisingly, the pattern and its limit were obvious on inspection. Zuko was not simply fighting with two blades. Their movement was dependent on each other- where one blade was, the other of course could not be. As these were full-length swords that Zuko was using, their movement in relation to each other was quite limited. Sokka realized that with only minor effort, he could predict the exact angle and position the second blade would have, based solely on the first.

They weren't separate, just two different parts of the same whole.

Sokka shoved with the flat of his blade, meeting Zuko's latest attack and actually pushing the other boy back a step. Sokka took the opportunity to make his own temporary retreat. He shifted to a single-handed grip, and altered his stance to a classic fencing style. Zuko watched with obvious curiosity, but renewed his attack pattern without change.

Sokka casually leaned to the side to avoid the first blow, smiled, then used his free hand to reach around Zuko's follow-up slice, grab the other teen's wrist, and slam it hard against Sokka's rising knee. Zuko yelped and dropped his sword, yanking his wrist free.

The two combatants now each held a single blade.

Sokka twirled his sword into a reverse grip, and swung it in a looping pattern that kept it constantly in motion. Zuko had completely lost his cool, and his attempts to block the unremitting attack were clumsy and frantic. Sokka felt the other's grip loosen, and immediately flowed his looping attack into an uppercut-like strike that brought his own reversed blade against Zuko's with terminating force. The second sword flew up, back, and clattered onto the stone ground, skidding almost to the opposite end of the stage.

The two boys stood where they were for several moments, just looking at each other.

Sokka turned on his heel and walked away. Zuko called after him, "What kind of style was that?"

The Water-tribe boy kept walking, and never turned around. "Sokka style."

**END**


End file.
